The Way You Wash Those Dishes
by Onigiri in a Sailor Uniform
Summary: Love confessions over soapy suds. YUKI'S POV


I stood there; my hands soaking in the disgusting, soapy water as I scrubbed at an unknown crust hardened on the top of a dinner plate. This lukewarm liquid was beginning to turn my skin into that of a ghost-white prune and I nearly wretched.

But, no. If I must, I would force myself not to lose composure over such a trivial thing.

Especially not with _her_ standing next to me.

She was smiling so pleasantly while doing such a loathsome chore.

Why?

She didn't have to prove anything; no one was watching over her shoulder, making sure she behaved as happy as possible no matter what the circumstances. . .

So, why?

I didn't realize I had been staring until _she_ noticed me doing it.

Her face was now full of concern. "Is. . .something wrong, Yuki-kun?"

Yuki-kun. That's what she called me all the time now. And I still referred to her as 'Honda-san'. . .

At first it had been out of respect. But now. . . We lived in the same house, tended my garden together, washed dishes together. . . She even knew my secret.

Could I call her by first name?

Right now, she was looking into my eyes, patiently waiting for an answer.

I had to muster up enough courage or yet another chance would slip away from my grasp.

"T-. . .T-. . ." My mouth wasn't used to forming the word, and I felt as clumsy as a child learning to walk. But finally, I was able to force it out. "_Tohru-chan_."

Her eyes seemed to widen just a bit, and there may have even been a hint of pink on her cheeks.

"M-May I call you. . .Tohru-chan. . .?"

My heart was pounding as I awaited her reaction. Would she laugh at me at getting so worked up all over a name? Would she feel so awkward, she would just go on washing the dishes, pretending nothing happened? . . .Would she simply say "no," altogether?

Suddenly, her lips broke into a wide, warm smile that melted my pounding heart away.

"I would be absolutely honored," she said, and bowed.

It felt bittersweet.

I was overjoyed at the fact that she said yes. But there was no need for her to feel honored. No need for someone who can smile so pleasantly while washing dishes. . .to feel honored over someone like _me_.

When she rose from her bow, she must have been reading my mind because her face took on that same expression of worry that she would give even to a stranger she met on the streets. "I-Is something else troubling you, Yuki-kun? Did I do something to upset you?"

"You know. . ." I said, looking down at my suds-covered hands in embarrassment. "Washing dishes is the one chore I'm good at. . .so, if you wanted, I could do it _every_ night, and you could get more things done. . ."

I could feel her smile. "Thank you, Yuki-kun. Truly. But. . ."

But she would rather do it herself and get it done _right_? But she would never trust someone like _me_ with such a task? I braced myself for the worst.

"But I enjoy washing the dishes."

My eyes widened from under my bangs. That was the last explanation I had expected.

She continued, "I think of a dirty dish as a person who has been through all the hurt, troubles, and anxieties today. It clings to them and pulls them down. Nobody wants to eat off of them. . .or as I think, nobody wants to be around them when they're in such a foul mood. However. . .once the day turns to night, I come and scrub and rinse away all of their pain, so they're ready to face the new day. And I feel like _my_ troubles have been rinsed away. . .and _I'm_ ready to face the new day. . ."

Her words pulled my gaze back up to her, and I looked at her smiling sheepishly at her feet, my mouth hanging open in awe.

How could she always say the things you wanted. . .you _needed_ to hear most, without even realizing what she was doing? I. . .

". . .love you!"

The words were out of my mouth before I even realized what had happened.

I felt detached from the 'real' me, like a ghost watching it all from above as her head quickly snapped up, and she stared at me in shock.

Time seemed frozen. I wanted to run away from what I had just done, run out of the kitchen and out of the house and just _keep_ running until my legs couldn't take it anymore.

But my body wouldn't move.

Then, she gave me that same warm smile.

"Yes, I love you, too."

For one, fleeting second, my heart stopped.

But then she went on.

"I love all the Sohma, so much. You've been absolutely kind to me, and I could never ask for more. So when you say that you care for me in return. . ." She gave me another bow. "I can't help but be greatly honored!"

I watched her put away the last dish and walk out of the room, a sad smile on my lips.

After a moment, I realized I was still holding the crusty plate in my hand. With one last scrub, the gunk finally came off, and I began to rinse away my pain.

- **END** -


End file.
